


bereft of hearth and home

by eva_cybele



Series: flew like a moth to you, sunlight [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23109448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eva_cybele/pseuds/eva_cybele
Summary: Zenos yae Galvus slaughters the Ala Mhigan resistance, and Alphinaud turns his eyes eastward. Meanwhile, the Warrior of Light goes home to lick her wounds, in the only place in Eorzea that still feels safe.
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Warrior of Light
Series: flew like a moth to you, sunlight [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1362601
Kudos: 46





	bereft of hearth and home

**Author's Note:**

> a follow-up to my previous work, Promises Kept. would have been done months ago except I lost it in a hard drive failure and then, y'know...Shadowbringers.

_ Pain. _ Red hazed the edges of her vision, fading to black at the corners. She honestly didn’t know how she was still upright, much less nodding along with Alphinaud’s report to the Flame General, but she locked her knees and tried to ignore the burning of her aether-starved veins. So much healing magic, trying to save the ones she could, because for one of the first times in her life, her sword and her shield hadn’t been enough.

Every time she blinked she saw him, sword covered in blood. She had killed primals, Ascians, elder fucking dragons, and  _ none  _ of that had prepared her for the carnage wrought by the hand of Zenos yae Galvus.

It had been sport. Nothing more. The slaughter of the Resistance had  _ bored _ him. Even she had been barely more than a fly to swat away – until the very end, when she’d seen a spark of interest, and then he was gone, leaving her bleeding in the dirt of Rhalgr’s Reach.

So many bodies lying in scattered heaps, the ground more red-black than brown – Kaede shook her head once, sharply, trying to dislodge the image, and was rewarded with a world that swam alarmingly before her. With effort, she managed to tune back into Alphinaud’s voice – a war on two fronts, to divide the Empire in its fight. A ship to Doma, to light the fires of rebellion. He sounded so determined, focused to forge ahead in the wake of sorrow, or else be lost to it, as he had been in the days after the Crystal Braves turned their coats.

Not a bad plan, all things considered, but the very thought of soldiering on nearly made her knees buckle. The journey, the opposite of the one her parents had made when fleeing the Empire’s control of Doma, would be long and arduous. Hell, she didn’t even know how she would get to Limsa, with her anima all but spent.

Lifting one gloved hand as if it were made of lead, she dropped it heavily onto Alphinaud’s shoulder. “I’m with you. But I need a day or two to settle some things here. You head to Limsa and get our passage secured, and I will meet you there.”

Blue eyes blinked at her in surprise, and Kaede could see when Alphinaud finally looked past all the charts and documents he kept stored in his genius brain, and actually  _ saw _ her. If the worry in his face was anything to go by, she looked at least half as bad as she felt. “Of course. We’ll be waiting for you.”

Alisaie’s face popped over her brother’s shoulder, and for a moment, they were quadruplets. The extra twins resolved into the normal two, and Alisaie grimaced. “And when we’re done in Doma, we’re kicking Zenos’s ass. He won’t get away with this.”

The back of Kaede’s brain erupted into chittering, shivering  _ fear _ at the thought of facing that man in combat again, but she managed a smile that she hoped was confident. “Damn right he won’t.”

With the sloppiest Flame salute she’d done since joining the Company in Raubahn’s general direction, she dodged the concerned gazes of the gathered remnants of the Resistance and hobbled, slowly, to the aetheryte in the center of Castrum Oriens. Lifting her hand to it, she stretched her mind out to the only beacon she yet had the strength to reach, the one all the aether of her being thought of as home, and let herself dissolve into the aetherial sea.

Everything was black, and cold, and for a moment, Kaede wondered if she had lost herself the way Y’shtola once had – and then she could feel the rasp of cobblestone beneath her cheek, and snowflakes melting in her hair. Pushing herself to her knees, and then to her feet, the blurry grey-black-white of Ishgard at night came into somewhat-focus. Numb with pain and cold – she had been dressed for Gyr Abania, not Coerthas, and the uraeus leather of her coat did nothing to insulate her from the frigid winds of Halone’s city – she stumbled towards the Pillars, her feet guiding her when her mind had lost its way.

After a while, she came to a shuddering stop before the door to a manor house – whose, she had a few guesses, but no certainty – and pounded her fist against it, twice, before slumping against the stone threshold, vision narrowing and going dark once again.

–-

Aymeric flipped through the missives on his desk, mind unusually unfocused on his work. Most of it didn’t really require his attention – Ishgard was used to being ruled by a single man, and no amount of words would apparently convince the House of Lords that the Lord Speaker was not, in fact, the ruler that the Archbishop had been.

With a quiet growl, he shoved away from his desk, pacing out of his office and into the foyer of Borel Manor, half-considering a walk down to the Congregation for some late night practice drills to work off his restlessness. The healed wound in his side twinged slightly in the colder air of the foyer, reminding him of the stupidity of venturing out alone, and he sighed. The mantle of Lord Speaker hung heavier on his shoulders than that of Lord Commander ever had, and some nights it was all but suffocating.

Two soft thuds against the heavy oak of his front door startled him out of his frustration, and Aymeric waved back his steward and strode toward the door himself. At this time of night, it could only be urgent business, and he welcomed the distraction.

Whatever he had expected to see upon hauling the heavy door open, it was not the slumped and shivering form of the Warrior of Light, in attire entirely unsuited to the cold.

“Halone have mercy,  _ Kaede _ ?” When his voice failed to stir a reaction, he knelt and slid arms under her shoulders and knees, lifting her small form with ease. A‌ closer look revealed nearly every scrap of her exposed flesh to be striped with barely-healed cuts and mottled with brusies. Her head lolled against his shoulder, Abanian-styled plaits half-unraveled and splashed with dried blood.

Someone had tried their damnedest to kill the strongest person in all of Eorzea, and by all appearances, had nearly  _ suceeded _ . Fear and concern and rage swelled up in his breast so strong it threatened to choke him, but his mind reasserted control quickly. He kicked the door closed behind him and strode to the nearest couch, gently laying the unconscious woman down on it, before fixing his steward with a sharp look and an order to bring the Temple Knights’ chirugeon.

A soft groan snapped his attention back down, and one bright blue eye slitted open just slightly. “…’meric? ‘m fine, just…tired…” Her words slurred together, barely making sense, but her grip on his sleeve was firm and insistent, even if it took two attempts for her to make contact.

“You do not look ‘fine.’” The sound of her voice, even a ghost of its usual self, soothed part of his rattled nerves and he relaxed slightly. The analytical part of his brain started working again, no longer acting on pure instinct, and it was true – he saw no actual open wounds. None of her bones were bent at strange angles, all the considerable amount of blood that stained her clothing was dry to the touch.

“Please.” Her voice cracked on the word, and both her eyes opened, making unfocused contact with his own before falling closed once again.

She had dragged herself here, from the ass end of Gyr Abania, not for medical attention, but because she needed rest. And something had shaken her enough to drive her all the way to Ishgard before she felt safe. All the way to  _ him _ .

Warmth swelled in his chest for a moment, until he firmly squashed it back down. Now was not the time for maudlin pining. Kaede had come to him for sanctuary, and he would not disappoint her.

Waving a hand at his steward, still hovering in confusion, Aymeric swept his gaze down Kaede’s body, calculatedly taking stock of her injuries, her stained clothing, and the blue of her lips. She’d been too long in the cold, and blankets would not warm her quickly enough.

“Draw a hot bath in my chambers immediately. Have the maids find warm, dry clothing in hyur sizes. Wake the kitchen staff and have them prepare some soup. And see that I am not disturbed until I say otherwise, unless Ishgard is literally on fire.” The orders rolled off Aymeric’s tongue, sharp and bright, and the elderly Elezen sprang into action with a speed that would have been admirable in one of his knights, much less a member of his household staff.

Alone for the moment, Aymeric returned his gaze to the woman on his couch. With gentle hands he tugged free the buckle of her sword belt. Her shield followed, placed on the floor nearby. Her gloves, boots, and coat, the leather stiff with blood and cold, made a heap at the other end of the couch, and Aymeric gently gathered her shivering form back into his arms, and headed for his rooms.

The chamberlain had made damned quick work of the bath, and the sunken tub was already full and steaming in the cold air. Laying her back down on a nearby bench, Aymeric began to stand when a small hand threaded through the hair on the back of his neck and weakly tugged him back down. “Don’t leave. You’re warm.”

Pressing his forehead to hers in a brief moment of relief at how much stronger her voice sounded, Aymeric pulled her hand away so he could straighten up. “I may be, but I think you’ll like the bath even more. I just need to get the rest of your clothes off and we’ll get you in.”

“Oh.” Kaede flicked a hazy glance down at her body and seemed surprised to find most of her clothing missing. “Okay then.” The lack of a quip about him trying something concerned him, as well as the lack of insistence that she could undress herself, but he finished stripping her down with almost detached deftness, squashing any and all emotional reaction to both the sheer extent of her wounds and the unclothed state of her body in his single-minded focus on restoring warmth to her pale flesh.

A deep, long groan tore itself out of her throat as he eased her down into the pool, head leaning against the edge, eyes closed this time in pure sensory pleasure instead of unconsciousness. Goal achieved, Aymeric found himself casting about for something else to focus on, instead of the yawning dark pit of questions and worry that Kaede obviously did not need dumped on her in that moment. He settled on the messy pile of braids that pooled on the floor at the edge of the tub, gingerly picking his fingers through them, untangling and smoothing until the gold strands could be united into one heavy silken mass.

When he finished, a wet, shimmering hand raised itself from the water, like a water nymph from the old stories, and slid against his cheek. Lips that had regained their pink color pressed lightly against his own, and Aymeric closed his eyes, releasing the rest of the tension he’d been carrying into the kiss. When she drew back, he could finally see that her gaze was focused and sharp and present in a way it hadn’t been before. She was awake, truly this time, though exhaustion lurked in the blue-black circles beneath her eyes, and pain lingered in the furrow of her brow.

“Thank you. I needed that.” She smiled, and it was clear she didn’t just mean the bath.

“I’m glad I could help.” Pressing a light kiss to her forehead, he made to stand, but the hand on his cheek slid around to the back of his neck, and once again he was helpless in her grasp.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? Get in here.” Though she sounded mock-offended, there was real panic lurking at the edges of her expression, and Aymeric’s duty to get his injured guest some food was wholly overridden by his heart and body’s need to stay with the woman he loved.

Quickly shucking his clothes and kicking them into the corner, he slid down into the tub behind her, pulling her back flush against his chest. One long-fingered hand splayed across her stomach, and the other traced soothing patterns up and down her arm.

Long minutes ticked by as Aymeric enjoyed the incredibly rare and nearly overwhelming joy of simply holding Kaede in his arms, extenuating circumstances be damned. Her breathing was long, slow, and steady – to the point that he thought she might have fallen asleep, until her fingers threaded through his over her abdomen.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?”

Of course he wanted to know. The not-knowing was practically eating a hole in him – how could he protect her from an enemy he knew nothing about? But her previously relaxed muscles tensed as she asked the question, and Aymeric shook his head, chin brushing over her hair. “When you’re ready, you can tell me. Until then, you can rest.”

A shaky laugh-sob all but tore itself out of her chest and Aymeric squeezed her a bit tighter in response. Twisting her upper body in his grasp, Kaede grabbed the back of his head and pressed a hard, almost frantic kiss against his lips, and he felt in it what she needed from him in that moment: to forget, to lose herself, to balance the death and pain against life and pleasure.

The fact that he had been trying very,  _ very  _ hard to ignore – naked gorgeous woman on his lap, nothing between them – suddenly became the center of his focus. Almost without his conscious thought, his free hand covered one breast, and their interlinked hands slid down her stomach and between her legs. His intentions of slow gentleness were foiled by her hand pressing down on his, urging him harder and faster.

Her gasps and moans and writhing in his arms only served to drive him further into madness, so when her spine went taut and she arched back, grinding down against his length in the thoughtless throes of pleasure, he found himself following her over the edge, without her hand having touched him.

With a full-body shudder, Kaede collapsed back into him, and tucked her head under his chin. “Miss me, did you?”

“More than you know.” The pad of one thumb stroked over the scales on her cheek, body’s lust temporarily satisfied and giving way again to the warm mixture of fondness/worry/admiration that colored his every thought about her.

Kaede sighed, deep and relaxed, and the sound ignited a tiny spark of masculine pride that in his younger years he might have been tempted to nurture into full-blown ego. “Thank you. For taking care of me. I’m not entirely sure what I did to deserve you.”

“Well, there was that whole thing where you stormed a fortress to rescue me, saved my city, ended a thousand years of war, killed a giant rampaging dragon…” He glanced down to see her nose crinkled in irritation, so Aymeric cut the teasing note from his voice and smiled at her. “And while doing all of that, you managed to also become my dearest and most trusted friend, one of the only people in the world I can fully rely on. I am proud to be the same for you, in whatever form that takes.” If she had only desired friendship from him, he would have given it to her. That she not only accepted but returned his affection was still something that surprised him on a daily basis, and he would take every single scrap of a moment he could to indulge in her presence, rare as it was these days.

The warmth of their mutual afterglow seemed to give her the strength to face what she had been running from. “I was aiding the Ala Mhigan Resistance in Gyr Abania. Zenos yae Galvus learned our base of operations and attacked.”

It seemed like the temperature of the room dropped ten degrees in a the span of a heartbeat. Halone’s mercy, no wonder she was so battered. The reports he’d seen of the Imperial Crown Prince’s activities were disturbing, even to a man whose entire career had been mired in the muck of generations of bloody conflict. That she had managed to survive, and walk away on her own two feet, was testament to her indomitability.

The whole bloody tale spun out before him, like Kaede was purging herself of poison. The casual slaughter of nearly the entire camp, including the grievous wounding of Y’shtola Rhul, who had only relatively recently returned from her latest brush with death. And at the center of it all was Zenos, who had toyed with the Warrior of Light like a cat with a mouse…or Nidhogg, with Ishgard.

“I think he let me live. If he’d wanted, I would be dead in the dirt of Rhalgr’s Reach.” And for a woman who spent her time hunting down the creatures that no one else could kill, this simple admission had clearly rocked her foundations. Eorzea had spent so much time telling her that she was the Warrior of Light, that she was strength and hope and light made manifest. How could she not believe in her own myth, at least a little? And the reminder that there was a man out there with power that could so easily eclipse hers – not a god, not an Ascian, but a mortal man – well, the idea was terrifying enough to Aymeric, he couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to be in her shoes.

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss against her shoulder. “He was too proud. And that will be his undoing.”

With a movement like a spring uncoiling, Kaede pushed back out of his arms and stared at him, blue eyes burning with anger and fear. “How can you be so damned confident? You’re not the one fighting him,  _ I _ am. And how the  _ fuck _ am I supposed to kill someone who knocked me on my ass by barely lifting his sword?”

The accusation in her voice stung -- everything in him wanted to be by her side, wanted to help her fight her battles, but he was chained to Ishgard. And even if he broke those bonds, he knew in his heart that for all of his martial prowess, he simply wasn’t  _ strong enough _ to stand on equal footing with her. 

Aymeric closed his eyes. He knew too well how other people’s faith and belief could feel like expectation, like obligation, a crushing weight on your shoulders. But he knew too how that same faith could be the thing that holds you aloft in a sea of doubt and fear. He opened his eyes and stared back at hers, unflinching.

“Because you are  _ stronger than him _ . Maybe not physically, but you have been brought to your knees before, and you always,  _ always _ , get back up. You lick your wounds, and then you find a way through. You will do so again.”

His words cracked through the shell of anger, and Kaede wrapped her arms around herself, gaze breaking from his. “I don’t want to. I’m just...I’m so tired. Of losing people. Of failing.” Her face twisted in a grimace, and Aymeric knew too well some of the faces that she was seeing -- Haurchefant, Ysayle, Minfilia, Papalymo, countless other lives that had touched hers before passing from this life to the next. This battle had added more to that list, and future ones would doubtlessly do so as well. And she blamed herself for every one.

Releasing a breath, Aymeric reached out and put his hand on her cheek, drawing her back to him. “I understand. I do. And I wish to all the Twelve that you didn’t have to fight. Or that at least I could be there with you.” As much as he loved her, he also loved Ishgard, and honestly – even shivering with fear in his bathtub, Aymeric trusted Kaede to survive without him more than Ishgard. She was stronger than his entire nation put together, and needed him less. Most days, anyway. This one he was more than glad to give her, and maybe someday he could start to make a dent in the time he owed her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –” Her voice half caught on a sob, and Aymeric squeezed her a little tighter.

“You don’t need to apologize for being afraid. Or exhausted. You’re mortal, you’re allowed to break under the pressure sometimes. Halone knows you’re under more than most anyone else.”

Slender, steel-strong arms wrapped around his back and squeezed in wordless appreciation.

Smoothing a hand down her wet, heavy hair, Aymeric dimly became aware that the fire in the hearth had become not much more than embers, and the water of the bath was more tepid than hot. If they stayed much longer, it was going to get downright cold.

“We should probably get cleaned and dressed.” The statement, perfectly echoing his thoughts, was mumbled sleepily into his chest. With a small chuckle, Aymeric loosed his hold on her and cast about for soap and cloth, but Kaede snatched them out of his hands. “I think you’ve done enough fussing over me for one night. Go find us some clothes, I’ll be out in a minute.”

She was clearly still tired, and reluctant to meet his eyes, but seemed a bit steadier than before. With a sigh, Aymeric hauled himself out of the tub and over to the stack of towels, doing his best to ignore the prickly feeling of eyes raking appreciatively over his backside. It was a feeling he was mostly accustomed to, but tonight was entirely more welcome than usual.

On the other side of the door, he found a small stack of clothing next to a tray with two bowls of soup, still steaming. His household staff was conspicuously absent, but the soup was hot enough that it couldn’t be coincidence. Aymeric didn’t know whether to be irritated or grateful.

Soft footsteps scraped against the stone behind him, and a small hand rested against his back as Kaede peered around him. “Is that food?”

“It would seem so. Hungry?”

Slipping past him, the towel-clad woman bypassed the clothing entirely, picking up the tray of food and carrying it into his chambers, where she dropped inelegantly to the rug in front of his fireplace, digging in with the lack of decorum he usually only saw in his knights after a long, pitched battle. The sight of a naked Kaede sitting cross-legged on his floor, eating soup, was oddly endearing. After a moment he shrugged and joined her, clothes tucked under his arm.

They ate in silence, and by the end of the bowl, Aymeric noticed Kaede’s eyelids hanging heavy. He reached over and tapped her lightly on the nose, startling her back into wakefulness. “Let’s get some sleep, shall we?”

The grumpy look smoothed off her face, and she glanced back at his bed, hesitation in her expression. Reaching over to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, he caught her eye and smiled. “Allow me one more bit of fussing?”

A matching smile bloomed on her face, like rare morning sunlight reflecting off the windows of Saint Reymanaud’s Cathedral. “Oh, I suppose.”

Standing, he scooped her up in his arms in one fluid movement, ignoring her yelp of surprise. With long strides he crossed the room to his bed and deposited her into the silk sheets. As he stood, a wadded up towel made sudden and unpleasant contact with his face, and Aymeric staggered back, romantic gesture suddenly thrown very off course.

Blinking down at the now completely naked woman in his bed, who was giggling helplessly at his expense, he couldn’t help but feel a wave of joy. Sliding into bed beside her and tugging the blanket around them, he felt her body go limp as warmth and comfort won out over exhaustion. He followed her into sleep soon after, a slight smile on his lips.

\--

Sun shone through the window of Aymeric’s bedchamber, slanting across Kaede’s face until the brightness dragged her from the depths of sore, exhausted unconsciousness. With a groan, she dragged herself to a sitting position, groggy and disoriented. After a few minutes of trying to pin down her thoughts, memories of the previous day and night slowly lined themselves into a reasonable order, and Kaede realized that the sunlight that had woken her was coming through the  _ western _ window. 

Gods, what fucking time was it? Gingerly resting her weight on stiff legs, she spotted a small pile of clothing at the end of the bed, a single Nymeia lily resting on top. Moving the flower aside revealed a doublet and trousers that looked both functional and warm, and Kaede privately thanked whatever maid had picked them out that it wasn’t a dress -- or armor, for that matter. Tying her hair back with a small length of ribbon, she hesitated a moment, and then tucked the lily into her hair. 

Feeling a bit out of place, Kaede padded over to the door and cracked it open, poking her head out into the study on the other side. She had half expected to find Aymeric there, but the room was empty. Well, almost empty -- an ancient, extremely fluffy feline was sprawled over the seat of the chair nearest the hearth, glaring at her for disturbing its rest. 

A small smile twitched up the corner of Kaede’s mouth. She never would have guessed Aymeric for a cat person, but the sudden mental image of him sitting in the chair with the cat on his lap seemed as natural as breathing. She gave the cat a polite nod and was rewarded with a slow blink, and then a complete ignoring of her presence as it settled back to its nap. 

It took all the way into the main sitting room before she saw another person -- a Hyur maid dusting the mantle squeaked and jumped at her approach. “M’lady, I’m so sorry! I was supposed to be listening for you to wake up but it had been so long and it’s getting late and I needed to get some work done so I thought I’d --”

“It’s alright, really. Please don’t trouble yourself on my account.” Kaede shifted her weight, debating with herself if asking where Aymeric was would come off too clingy, or if maybe she should enquire as to the location of her gear instead. 

As if sensing her internal monologue, the maid smiled. “His lordship said that he’s sorry that he had to run out and take care of some business at the Convocation, and that he’ll be home before sundown. That’s not too long now, would you like something to eat?”

Kaede shook her head. “I was thinking of getting some fresh air while there’s still light. Thank you, though.” 

The maid inclined her head and murmured a farewell, and Kaede slipped out the door into a rare sunny afternoon in Ishgard. Though it was bright, the air was still sharp and cold, and banished the last of the fuzziness from the corners of her mind as she tucked her hands into the wide sleeves of her doublet. A bit of aimless wandering brought her to her favorite vista in all of Ishgard -- the Last Vigil, with the landscape of the highlands in spread out as far as the eye could see to the south, and the stairs up to the Hoplon and Saint Thordan’s Basilica ascending into the heavens to the north. With a heavy sigh, Kaede soaked in both views. If Alphinaud’s plans went as expected, she wouldn’t see either again for some time.

Footsteps echoed off the stone to her left as she rested against the stone railing, and she flicked a glance back to see a different dark-haired elezen than the one she was expecting, but still altogether welcome -- Artoirel Fortemps, a man she had come to look on as a beloved, albeit slightly distant, brother. 

A small smile illuminated his features, so different than the enormous grins and cocky smirks of his younger brothers. There were new lines between his brows, as well -- the mantle of count sat awkwardly on his shoulders. “Kaede. I can’t say that I expected to see you a few yalms from my doorstep today. What brings you to Ishgard?”

She sighed and turned her gaze back out onto the highlands. “Homesickness, mostly.”

Artoirel hummed a considering noise, and leaned on the railing beside her. “I’m glad you still think of Ishgard as your home. I can have your room at the manor prepared for you, if you like? It’s always open.” 

Kaede stretched her arms up over her head and stood to her full height, feeling muscles sing in protest. “I appreciate the offer, honestly, but I already have accomodations.”

Artoirel’s expression turned amused, almost teasing, and in it she could suddenly see shadows of both Haurchefant and Emmanellain. “With our illustrious Lord Speaker, I assume.”

Folding her arms in mock outrage, Kaede wrinkled her nose and glared up at the much taller man. “You know what they say about assuming, don’t you Artoirel? Besides, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your evening.” She shifted her gaze pointedly towards the gaggle of highborn elezen ladies hovering just beyond hearing distance, glaring daggers in her direction that turned to simpering smiles and hiding behind fans as Artoirel followed her gaze.

“Oh, Halone, they don’t know when to quit, do they?” 

The honest dismay in his voice made Kaede feel a touch guilty about poking fun, and she softened her voice as she turned back around, ignoring the ladies. “Not enjoying that part of being the new Count de Fortemps?”

“No, nor any other if I’m being honest. But I will do my duty, unpleasant as it is.” He sighed, and pushed himself back to standing. “Which, unfortunately, is still calling me even now. Feel free to come visit any time, Kaede. I know Father would be glad to see you. The manor is too quiet now with just he and I there.” 

Kaede smiled and rested a hand on his arm, the specter of Haurchefant lingering in the air between them for a moment as he almost always did. The melancholy moment came to an abrupt end as the noble ladies behind them suddenly frenzied like sharks when blood is cast into the sea. Turning, she saw them part as Aymeric made his way through, doing his best not engage too closely with the women elegantly clamouring for his attention. 

The dagger stares only sharpened in intensity as Aymeric stopped at her side, nodding a greeting to Artoirel but his body language clearly focused on her. A small, petty part of her wanted to do something to  _ really _ incense them, but she pulled the impulse back, reluctantly.

Artoirel chuckled and squeezed Kaede’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you to your...accomodations, then. Have a good evening, Kaede. Lord Speaker.” He inclined his head and turned to leave, that infuriatingly knowing glint in his eye only growing stronger as Aymeric moved closer, his hand rising to settle possessively on her lower back. She wasn’t the only one with petty impulses, apparently. 

Banishing the undoubtedly scandalized Ishgardian ladies from her thoughts -- maybe they’d go back to trying to swarm Artoirel, it would serve him right, the smug jerk -- Kaede leaned her head against Aymeric’s shoulder and sighed. 

“Accomodations? What was that about?” 

“Just Artoirel teasing me about you. I don’t know why I was surprised that he knows. All of Ishgard probably does.” She flicked a glance up and down his form, positioned to take the brunt of the wind. “Definitely after today, I think.”

Aymeric shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve never made my admiration of you a secret.” The hand on her back slid upwards over her hair, brushing lightly over the petals of the lily secured at the nape of her neck. 

“That’s true.” Relaxing into the warmth that radiated through his armor, Kaede turned her eyes back to the view, feeling the weight of her upcoming departure settle even heavier on her heart. 

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” There was an ache in his voice that echoed the one she felt throughout her entire body. She was always leaving, it seemed like.

“Mm. To Doma. Alphinaud thinks if we can inspire a rebellion there, it will split Zenos’s attention and give us an opportunity to free Ala Mhigo. I’ll...probably be gone for quite some time.” The ride by ship would be long, and teleportation halfway around the world was possible, but not exactly easy, so the chances of making a visit back to Eorzea before they were done in Doma were slim. 

The hand on her hair stilled for a moment, and then swept down back to its original place on her lower back. “Alright. I’ll see you off tomorrow morning, then.” 

Narrowing her eyes, Kaede squinted up at Aymeric. “Tomorrow morning, hm? Why do I get the feeling you aren’t going to let me argue with you?”

A small smirk cracked the serene ivory of his face. “You wouldn’t want to make a liar of poor Lord Artoirel about your...accomodations, wasn’t it?” The smirk disapated as quickly as it came, and was replaced with concern. “Besides, you need more rest. And to eat something.”

The reminder that she had not made her way down to the Forgotten Knight for lunch like she’d intended made her stomach growl audibly. A faint pink flush colored her cheeks. “Alright, you win. Tomorrow morning. You can have me all to yourself for one more night.”

Aymeric’s gaze sharpened, and the intensity made her shiver a little. “I will hold you to that promise, Warrior of Light.” Disentangling himself from her, he lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a light kiss across cold knuckles. 

Tomorrow, she would have to face her fear of Zenos, have to start training, have to face down her mother’s distant homeland. She would have to take up her armor and be the sword and shield in the hands of Hydaelyn. But tonight…

Tonight she would keep her promises.


End file.
